


Blink of An Eye

by LikeArrowsInTheHand



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 90s technology, Albus Dumbledore Being an Idiot, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Character Death, Chemistry is cool, Complete, Funny, Gen, Genius Harry Potter, Hogwarts First Year, Humor, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Master of Death (Harry Potter), Master of Death Harry Potter, Movie References, Powerful Harry, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Solving Problems Quickly, Something Made Them Do It, TV Show References, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Wizards being idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29334336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeArrowsInTheHand/pseuds/LikeArrowsInTheHand
Summary: Harry Potter goes on holiday, follow along on his adventure. Time Travel. MOD!Harry. No Paring. First Year Only. COMPLETE.
Comments: 49
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Short but sweet. Included references to the Marvel universe, Monsters V Aliens (movie), The Emperor's New Groove (movie) and Dinnerladies (tv show).

**CHAPTER 1**

"There's nothing good on," exclaims Harry as he watches the giant gold mirror. The image shown is swirls of colorful blobs.

"Sir, perhaps you need a holiday."

Harry turns towards his office door where his PA stood with a stack of papers. "Ych-y-fi, more forms! Why is it never, ever, ever, _less_ forms."

"The universe would be in chaos without paperwork. Now, about that holiday you need…"

"I just had one!" He replies as he follows her to his desk and watches her drop the stack into the IN tray and take a stack from the OUT tray.

"With all due respect, taking a Sunday afternoon off to watch a Crystal Palace match is not a holiday. You need at least two weeks off. You're starting to scare the interns again."

"Bah!"

"And now you are sounding like Scrooge."

"Where would I even go? What would I do? And who's going to cover for me? This place needs constant supervision. Henderson's miscalculation nearly caused the collapse of S-13 in the Omega Quadrant. This is why I implemented all those error prevention tools when I took over! But they don't work if they aren't used!"

"I still can't believe a basic algebraic problem would have caused mass extinction."

"Back-check! Self-check! Double-check!"

"Restaurant check?"

"All the checks!"

"Very good protocols, sir. Though, you did send him to teach secondary maths. I'm sure that's punishment enough."

"That's what he gets for accidently creating the Infinity Stones in that universe and not filing a permit!"

"Engineers, always thinking they know more than admins. This is what happens. No one appreciates a good filing system."

Harry nods. "Procedures are invaluable. I approved of the superheroes and aliens when Goodman submitted his proposal, but that's because S-13 was really boring before. I did not, and I repeat, did not approve of infinite power being given to children! When Henderson's done with the school year he'll be regenerated as a bread-man with a phobia of stairs and coconut matting. Take note of that, please."

"Right, bread-man, got it."

"Better yet, an introverted atheist stuck at an office Christmas party! In an endless loop! Yes, yes. That's better."

"Now, let's not get too hasty."

Harry grabs the stack from the IN tray and sits down to flip through them. "Maybe I'll make him a sock in a teenage boy's bedroom," he grumbles to himself as he signs several slips.

"That's absolutely cruel. That's a soul crushing punishment. He didn't mean to cause the death of half a universe."

"I'll think on it."

"And that holiday?"

"Where would I go?"

"You can go home for a bit. I took the liberty of filling out a request for an Aion trip."

"Why? An hour here will be…"

"A year in your home universe. Yes, I took that into consideration. When you first started here you rhapsodized about what could have, should have, would have. Well, off you pop. Go make it happen."

Harry looks up at her and then flips to the back of the paper stack where he finds the blue form personnel demanded everyone use for holiday requests. "You want me to go back in time?"

"Sideways."

"Whatever."

"You wouldn't be here if you had gone back to redo everything in your own timeline. Also, you take your job far too seriously to toss away a millennium of hard work. I am not suggesting you undo anything. But a divergence wouldn't cause a problem. You may get some closure."

"Hmm, I see. Well, it's not a bad idea. Oooh, I could get Draco back for being a prat." Harry smiles and hums. "I could squash Rita Skeeter with a hammer, scratch that, with a copy of the Prophet. AND!" He cackles, "Have Umbridge eaten alive by kittens!"

"All great ideas."

"Thank you."

"Though, if I can boldly say that it sounded like a Harry Potter version of what happens when you play a country song backwards."

"I do like Rascal Flatts."

"Everyone likes Rascal Flatts. You made it a company policy fifty years ago."

"I did, didn't I."

"Sign the form. I'll take care of everything while you're away. I'll call you if anything cataclysmic happens."

Harry stares off into nothing. Thinking of what he would change. His smile drops. "I wouldn't be able to save my parents. I know now that there is a balance that cannot be disturbed."

"You can still try to have fun, that's what a holiday is for."

Harry nods, signs the form and gives it to her. "Thank you, Death. I'll finish up this pile and clock out."

"Always happy to help, sir. Please note that the landing can be disorienting." She took the blue form and left the office.

"Right, I'll be human again," Harry mumbles to himself. "But really, how bad could it be?"

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The landing.

**CHAPTER 2**

Speeding towards a dark abyss. Rushing wind. Falling. Hard. Fast.

Bolting up in bed, wand in hand, heart pounding in his chest, he looks around in a panic.

No one is there.

He takes a deep breath, a slow breath. In. Out. In. Out. Letting the motion ebb his terror.

'Tempus,' he casts the spell silently with a flick of his wand in the air. In a gray shimmer the time appears. _03:03:15_

The seconds ticked up. 16, 17, 18. "Damn, it's still so early," he mumbles to himself and lays back down. Covering his eyes with his left arm, his right hand clutching the Elder wand.

He lowers his left arm, opens his eyes and looks about a bit more calmly. It's pitch black and he's in a small enclosed space. He starts feeling around in the dark.

As his hands map the sloped rectangular indentations above him, he catches sight of his very small frame. He looks down. He's on top of a lumpy camping mattress covered in a worn blue sheet. He looks himself over and is startled. He's short and all his muscle mass is gone.

The tiny room, the weight loss, the oversized pajamas. Flashes of his early years rush past his eyes unbidden. "What kind of nightmare is this?" he whispers to himself.

Not wanting to panic he tries to get his bearing once again. Making sure he's in the real world and not trapped in his mind, or worse, someone else's. Since scars map out his life he checks those.

He inspects his right arm first. Nothing. Strange. He was expecting to see the scar from the basilisk fang on his forearm. There is only pale unblemished skin. He is also missing the thin line from the ritual knife Pettigrew used for the resurrection ritual as well as the etched sentence on the back of his hand from Umbridge's blood quill. Taking a deep breath he reaches to touch his forehead and feels the scar that first cursed his life. It's slightly raised. He knows that if he conjures a mirror that it would be red, like a cut trying to heal but never scabbing. The last time it felt this way, well, he rather not think about that actually.

"Stupid scar acting up. Flashes of pain with Quirrell, then nothing with the diary, which made no sense since the locket made it flare up like the dickens. Then fourth year, oh that was a bad one," he mumbles. He lays down, closes his eyes, and thinks back. "Bloody tournament, bloody Death Eaters, bloody Ministry, bloody Volde…" He bolts up again, eyes peering at the darkness in surprise. He waves his wand to seal and silence the small room. He sends out a pulse that comes back to him. Three signals from the level above. With a shaking hand he casts Tempus Annum, the date-time charm.

03 _:08:11 03-08-1985_

He stares at it for a minute, watching until the minute mark changes. He counts every single tick. He finally blinks and with another wave of his wand the digits frizzles out like a candle in the drizzling rain.

"I'm back." His voice full of shock and incredulity. Then, as if the invisible strings holding him up were abruptly cut, he falls back on the bed.

Long forgotten emotions slam into him. Tears flow unbidden. His body shutters. Left hand crushing his mouth and nose, muffling his soul wrenching cries. Right hand never dropping his wand. Both survival instincts carved into him deeper than the scars that used to litter his body.

He's back. He could save so many. All those whose names he knew too well, all those he didn't. He could stop it all before it even started. For the first time in a millennium, Harry cried himself to sleep.

* * *

He wakes up about an hour later to find that it hadn't been a dream. He really is back. He sits up and decides it would be best to meditate and get his occlumency barriers in order and reinforced. Not only did he have too much to hide but it would also temper any future emotional collapses. Plus, dealing with everything that happened to him along the onslaught of puberty, again, was not a good combination.

It took two hours but everything is safely tucked away which has the bonus of further securing the soul-leech. He didn't like having to be a horcrux again but he knows how to get rid of it so he doesn't harp on it.

Now that he isn't going to burst into tears upon seeing someone he had seen die before, he has to think of a plan. Something effective, if not a tad ridiculous, to end this madness before anymore people started dying.

He cracks his back and shakes himself like a wet dog. The change was instant. There was no way he was going to run around looking like a child. Then he casts a small light charm and conjures writing materials then gets to work. He has a plan to hatch. It might even be fun. It was supposed to be a holiday after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Field Guide to Hunting a Snake.

**CHAPTER 3**

Harry looks around and is mildly impressed. It is ten past six in the morning and though the sun has risen already the tightly packed elm trees, reaching heights of almost twenty meters barely let any light in. "I prefer riparian woodlands myself. But well, if it's creepy enough for the Grimm Brothers, why not for a de-bodied Dark Lord, am I right?"

The response hiss is instant.

" _You dare! I am the…"_

" _Yeah, I know who you are, Voldemort, don't get your tail in a twist."_ The large black snake looked startled as Harry spoke back in Parseltongue then switched back to English. "How long does your host last after possession?"

" _The stronger ones last a month."_ The snake answers without thinking. Excuses could be made that it has been a very long time since he's spoken to a human.

"Wow, that's over fifty snakes since our last encounter in this timeline. Real creepy, Voldster, leaving a trail of animals in your wake. It's a dead give away, pun intended, that you're a psychopath. You know, in case you were wondering."

" _What last encounter?!"_

"Oh, you know. The one that resulted in you being a human confetti cracker. POP! Bye, bye Dark Balloony."

The viper raises itself up from the rich brown soil, doing its best to stretch out it's almost ninety centimeter body. It stares at Harry for far too long, even for a manner-less Dark Lord, before hissing out. " _James Potter! Impossible! I killed you."_

"I used to get that a lot. Not the 'you killed me' bit, but the whole 'I look like my Dad' bit. Note the lovely green gems," Harry tilts forward and flutters his eyelashes, "I inherited these beauties from my mother."

" _HARRY POTTER!"_ Voldemort lunges.

With a wave of his hand the snake is restrained by invisible ropes. "Woah there, Voldmeister, hold your thestrals. I come all this way for a nice little chat and you try to bite me. Bad Vipermort, bad!"

" _Release me!"_

Harry rolls his eyes and a huge grin takes over his face. "Impressive. You know, that sounded exactly like Dr Okun in _Independence Day,_ when the alien has its tentacles around his neck and he's talking to President Whitman. Man, I love Bill Pullman. Such a great actor, I'd vote for him." Then in the worst attempt at an American accent ever tried, he quotes the movie. " _We're fighting for our right to live, to exist. And should we win the day, the 4th of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day when the world declared in one voice: 'We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight_ _!_ _We're going to live on! We're going to survive!'"_ Harry looks wistful for a second then clears his throat. "Gets me every time. Makes me proud to be, well, I'm not, so never mind. Where were we?"

" _Release me!"_

"Right, that's how we got here, thanks for the reminder."

" _I am…."_

"We did that already. Let's move on, yeah?" The snake glares. "I want to try something out before getting rid of you. Alright?!"

" _You dare threaten me, the greatest..."_

Harry silences him. "I forgot how much you talk about yourself in the third person. Goodness. We're going to have to work on that. How about we get down to business," then because he was definitely a tad insane (hey, we're all pretty crazy, some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all) he sings and bops his head, " _to defeat the Huns."_ Again, he clears his throat, ignoring what just happened. "Now, it's currently 1985 and while five year old Harry Potter is supposed to be tucked away in a cupboard in Surrey, here I am, a man of...hmmm," he pauses, "I'm actually not sure how old I am. But I'm old. And! From the future. A future where I kill you in a little over a decade from now. That about gives you a nice recap of the sitch. Which brings me to our little Black Forest tea party. I gathered all your little trinkets, my dear Dark Klepto," Harry digs into his pocket, pulls out a black pouch which he enlarges into a duffle bag and removes a black diary, a ring, a cup, a tiara and a locket and tosses them on the floor in front of the snake. "I'm gonna put you back together again. It's gonna hurt. Sorry, not sorry."

Harry stuns the snake. He then digs up a pile of dirt, floats the snake on top of it, and surrounds it with the horcruxes. He removes a jar of salt from the same bag and creates a circle around everything with it. He puts the salt away and removes a large cloth covered stick from his bag. He unwraps it to reveal a human femur and places it next to the snake close enough that they touch. Last, he removes a rune engraved athame. He grimaces before shaking off the nerves, lifting his hair away from his face and in a quick motion slices off the lighting scar. He tosses the bloody flap of skin on top of the bone. He waves his hand over his forehead and heals the self inflicted injury and cleans up the dripping blood. He places the knife in his back pocket. Then takes a deep breath and steps out of the circle.

He kneels onto his right knee, resting his left arm on his bent left leg. He rubs his right thumb over the pads of the other fingers, from pinky to pointer, and in a flurry a fifteen inch knotted black wand appears. He presses the tip of his wand on the salt. "From the dust of the ground be made. Breathe in life. Become one living soul."The circle flares instantly and the salt merges to create a solid line. He hears the wretched yowls of the horcruxes as they are ripped from their vessels. The anguished crying of the poor dying viper. Voldemort's screams in agony.

The circle grows warmer by the second, escalating to a fiery inferno within minutes but Harry did not move. Sweat drips from his body as he watches the waves of heat rise from the dirt mound. The smell of burning flesh is nauseating. The snake melts into a puddle of blood, the pilfered bone and carved skin turn to ash. Minutes pass. Still he did not move.

Finally, the forest is quiet once again. The mound blackened and solidified like cooling lava. The ritual is almost over. Harry rights himself, using his shirt he wipes the sweat from his face. His thumb trails down the knots of the wand and it disappears. With a wave of his hand the smoke clears from within the circle. He steps into it and notes that all the trinkets are gone. Left is a tomb. He removes the athame from his pocket and upon the top of the tomb lightly etches a triangle, within it a circle and bisecting both, a straight line. He returns the knife to his pocket then gently places his left hand over the symbol and pushes down as he exhales.

The entire mound crumbles like wet sand revealing a tall, naked, man. The man inhales sharply and groans. Harry steps away to the outside of the circle again, and waits for him to get his bearings.

"Humpty dumpty sat on a wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall. All the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't put Humpty together again." Harry sings as he watches Voldemort slowly sit up and look around. Then after staring like a drunk toddler at a passing deer did he finally look down at himself.

"What…" his voice cracks. He clears his throat. "What have you done?" He is inspecting his hands, flexing his fingers.

Harry bows and says, "I call it the horcrux kragle!" with his arms spread out before straightening up again.

"What?"

"Never mind. You'll get that in like thirty years, maybe. Probably not."

"You made me mortal again?!"

"No, I made you human again." Then Harry starts singing in a horrible French accent and swaying because why not. "Good-looking again, poised and polished again, and gleaming with chaaaarrrrrrmmmmm."

"Stop that infernal racket."

Harry finishes off the last long consonant before pouting. "Tough crowd. Anyway." He claps his hands. "You were always mortal, Humptymort. Everyone and everything dies." He rolls his eyes. "You only extended the inevitable. Once you would have reached an age where your magic couldn't sustain you, then bye-bye horcruxes." He shrugs like it was obvious.

"I will kill you slowly for daring to steal from me!"

Harry gives him a slight frown. "If you wanted immortality, you should have become a vampire."

"Vampires have weaknesses. I am the greatest…"

The ranting was interrupted before it started. "There's this super creepy coven in Volterra that would love you. They have minions, hate humans, love to torture, right up your alley." Harry nods his head way too many times while highlighting the similarities.

"You insufferable brat! You steal from me, threaten to kill me..."

"I said, get rid of, not kill. Both are still options. Depends on how our chat goes."

"How dare you…" Voldemort shouts.

"I was going to offer you tea." Harry narrows his eyes at the man and folds his arms over his chest. "Even some pants, but you're being rude." He shakes his head. "So, you can just stay there, thirsty and naked, Starklord."

"What do you want?" the man bit out.

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at him seriously. "What would you do if I let you out of the circle?"

"My plans are none of your business!"

Harry starts rocking back and forth on his feet. "Go back to England? Gather your scream queens. Try to take over the world again, Brain?"

"I said…"

"Or," he stops fidgeting and stares into the man's almost black eyes, "would you try to start over. Create a new name for yourself. Not a stupid anagram this time. Maybe go into teaching like you wanted. Help shape the next generation."

"Teaching," Voldemort scoffed. "I am the greatest…."

"You ought to spend a little more time trying to make something of yourself and a little less time trying to impress people." They sit in silence for several minutes glaring at each other.

"You seem to know my answer already. Why bother asking?" Voldemort sneers.

Harry looks up to the sky with a deep frown, hands up beseeching. "Do I get brownie points for trying?" He huffs, looks the man in the eyes, and raises his left arm in his direction. "Goodbye Voldemort."

The force of energy knocks the man flat on his back. Mere seconds later he is sobbing. "Ah ah ah." Sad hiccupping cries without pause erupt from the man. Such pitiful sounds.

Harry grabs his bag. He removes a bottle, a carton of apple juice and two thin vials. He adds the entire contents of the blue vial into the bottle and three drops of the yellow vial. He caps the bottle and shakes it. After examining the color change of the liquid he crosses into the circle.

The man is still wailing. "It's okay. It's okay." He kneels down beside the man, and while supporting his head with his right hand, feeds him the bottle with his left. The man suckles the drink, his whimpering cries pitching as he shrank. By the time he finished the bottle the man was gone. On the ground was a sniffling baby.

Harry removes the bottle from his lips. He wriggles his fingers and the dirt rises around the baby and is transfigured into clothes. The infant is now wearing black shorts that reach below his knees, orange socks, and a green t-shirt that says 'Party Wagon' around a yellow vehicle with four muscled human-reptile mutants hanging out the sides all equipped with swords and nun chucks. He lifts the baby, placing his head on his shoulder and pats his back. "There, there." The boy burps, yawns, and promptly falls asleep.

Harry looks around the site and sighs. He cradles the sleeping boy against his left side and steps out of the circle again. He waves his right hand. The circle and dirt mound are gone.

"Death?" Harry calls out softly to not startle the sleeping baby.

"Hello." A friendly voice answers before a woman flickers into existence.

"Here," Harry passes the boy to her waiting arms.

"He's gorgeous." She smiles down at him and strokes his cheek with her finger. "Who's the cutest little Dark Lord, you are, yes you are."

"Death!"

"Oh, right," she looks away from the boy to Harry. "Sorry, sir."

"I erased his memory. He's literally a newborn."

"I thought you would have turned him into a gym sock."

"I considered it but it wasn't the worst I could think of."

"I'm quite curious now," she says as she rocks the child in her arms like a baby and hums the postlude to _In diesem Wetter, in diesem Braus."_

"I remembered that leech. You know which one. We couldn't eat after learning about it."

"We don't eat."

"Not the point. What was it again?"

"The leech that lives in a Hippopotamus' anus." The woman wrinkled her nose.

Harry wags a finger in her direction. "That's the one. The hippo's anus leech!"

"They don't live long."

"I know. That's the problem. So that's how we have Kindermort."

"I'm not sure how you leapt from anus leech to infant, sir, if I'm being honest."

Harry shrugs. "I don't know how my mind works either."

"What shall I do with him, then?"

"Find him a family, please."

"Here?"

"Wherever."

"Yes, sir." But before leaving she pauses. "Would you like a sample of his blood?"

Harry looks at her confused for a second. "Oh you mean for the scream queens?" She nods "Hmmm," Harry shifts from side to side considering it. "Nah, I can deal with them in a couple of years."

"If you say so."

"Thank you, Death."

"Happy to help, sir," she replies before blinking out of existence.

Harry gathers his supplies and walks deeper into the Black Forest while singing "Breakdown" by Jack Johnson.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANs:  
> -Movies and TV Shows that hinted at, sometimes not subtly: Keeping up Appearances, Phineas and Ferb, The Lego Movie, Beauty and the Beast, Twilight, Breakfast Club, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  
> -The ritual words are partly from Genesis when man is created.  
> -The song Death hums, "In diesem Wetter, in diesem Braus," is the end of the piece by Mahler which is about the power of death but how love is stronger.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Age is a necessary but insufficient requirement for growing up." Henry Cloud.

**CHAPTER 4**

He was sitting on the ratty cot several hours after dealing with Voldemort when his tiny body reminded him that he was hungry. It had been so long since that had happened that for a long minute he simply stared at his stomach as it made loud gurgling noises. 'Right, mortal,' he thought. He removed the muggle notice-me-not he had placed on the room when he returned and stretched as much as he could in the small space.

'If they make a fuss, well then, a little bit of carbon monoxide never hurt anybody,' Harry noted to himself. No one could blame him. Locking a child in a closet, what a bunch of wankers. He picked up Chuck the spider off his head, placed him on the wall, and stepped out of the cupboard.

In the kitchen he found his Aunt and Dudley having lunch. They turned towards him when he opened the kitchen door and stared for about five seconds before blinking then returned to their meal. Ignoring them Harry made his way to the large refrigerator and opened it. He peered at his options and picked out a carton of orange juice, a jar of Branston's pickle and a block of extra sharp cheddar. With his tiny arms full he had to kick the door closed. After dumping the contents unto the floor, he promptly sat on the lino to eat.

"What are you doing?" interrupted Petunia.

Harry looked up at her. He had been trying to whittle the block of cheese with his hands into sticks so he could scoop out the pickle. "Oh, umm, lunch?" he responded unsurely as he looked at his cheese covered hands. He could remember random lyrics but not how to make lunch, the brain was really weird.

"Wash up. I'll make you a cheese and pickle sandwich." She got up from her chair, crossed the room, picked up the items and shooed him towards the sink.

Harry washed his hands and then sat at the breakfast table very confused. He definitely remembered her being a total bitch the first time around. And it wasn't really his fault he was utterly useless without magic after thousands of years of not doing things the muggle way. He watched as Petunia grabbed bread slices, smeared them with pickle using a knife. Right, utensils. He'd forgotten where those were kept. Then she topped it with freshly grated cheese.

He stared gob-smacked as she came over, smiling, and placed a glass of orange juice and a plate with the sandwich in front of him on the table. She sat down, grabbed one of Dudley's packets of Monster Munch, the kid had several by him, opened it, and tipped the content onto his plate.

"There you go, Harry. Next time, ask for help, okay." He nodded numbly and ate his food. He was glad for instincts because he wasn't sure he could remember on his own what to do with food anymore.

After lunch he and Dudley were plopped in front of the television to watch T _he Magic Roundabout_. Harry was thinking that instead of the past, he was sent into a universe where things didn't make sense. Crazytown, population everyone.

Lunch had been his first time interacting with his relatives since his arrival at three o'clock in the morning and he wasn't expecting this at all. The last time they barely fed him and magic was called the M-word like it was profanity being bleeped out live action. But here he was, nibbling on a Time Out bar, watching Dougal praunce about the garden. The show was awful but Dudley seemed to love it so he stayed with the boy. After the program, Aunt Petunia put them down for a nap.

"Harry, you can stay with Dudley while I tidy up your room." He didn't know how to react so he nodded and gave her what he hoped was a happy smile instead of a grimace because he was so confused. She left the room after tucking them in and kissing them both on the forehead. He laid there staring at the blue ceiling.

That was it. He was being moved into Dudley's second room. No threats required. Which was a bummer. It was going to involve a pineapple, a paper hat, and some C4. He couldn't make up his mind about the meerkat which had caused the delay in putting the plan to action. But none of that was needed.

Once he heard Dudley's breathing even out he traced his ear casting a spell to keep him from listening in. Then silenced the room because of Petunia.

"Death?" He felt the end of the bed dip.

"Sir."

"Am I hallucinating this?" he gestured to the room.

"Of course not."

"Huh."

"Is there a problem?"

Harry gives a pointed look at Dudley before answering. "Not so much a problem, but what the hell is going on? In my original timeline they were horrible to me. I'm being cuddled for goodness sake!"

"Oh, I thought it was obvious."

"I'm going to need you to walk me through this one."

"The horcrux is gone and with it its influence on those around you."

"Wait, what?"

"The…."

"I heard you." He huffed. "You mean, that my crappy childhood was because of Noseless' hitchhiking sliver?"

"Yes. They are very malignant and affect muggles exponentially more than magical beings. Think about it. The Dursleys longed for normality, what's normal about the way they treated you?"

"What about once I started Hogwarts? People didn't treat me like crap then?"

"We seem to be recalling things differently."

"What was horrible about my time in there?"

"All of it."

"I had friends. I had fun. School was great."

"Two friends, who you argued with constantly. You played Quidditch which was fun, I'll give you that. But you were in danger every single year. No adult helped you. And Snape muttering a counter curse on your broom barely counts, he was a teacher, he should have tried to not let you die. Plus he was under a vow. McGonagall never listened. Dumbledore was blind. The students were antagonistic towards you at best. The public fickle even though you were their savior."

"That's cold, D. Like Beyoncé and the first Destiny's Child cold."

"Do I need to pull up your memories?"

"No. Geesh. Perspective sucks. I guess that makes sense, though. When we took turns wearing the locket it was horrible. I guess consistent contact to one would be similar."

"Yes, and your relatives had the longest exposure to the one in you, as did those in the neighborhood."

"But I'm not hanging off anyone's neck."

"True, but while it didn't take over your mind, like with Ginny and the Diary, it still reached out to others. Your magic did a great job keeping it from possessing you so instead it tried to latch onto others, unsuccessfully, causing the side effect. You bled an aura of hatred."

"So, everyone's going to be nice now?"

"Nicer. People are still horrible. Now they'll give you a chance instead of writing you off from the get go."

"Petunia and Dudley's reaction seems rather quick. Four years of hatred gone suddenly."

"Your mastery of death sped up the process. It would have otherwise taken months for the effects to dissipate naturally."

"Cool beans. I'll take it."

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, thanks for answering my questions."

"Enjoy your nap, sir."

Harry saw her disappear then undid the spells before rolling over and falling asleep.

* * *

Harry was enjoying having a childhood for once. Though, he knew there was no way he could act like a normal five year old so he gave that up without even trying. He mostly ignored everyone unless absolutely necessary. Or when playing with Dudley, because there was no way in Hades was he going to let the poor kid turn out as horrible as the last time. Manners and exercise are good for the soul after all.

It was a very boring month before school started and he knew actually going to school wasn't going to fix that. Also, he didn't want to go through it all if he could help it. As such he had a very simple plan. On the first day, while the rest of the class drew a picture of their family, Harry, already having produced the correct amount of stick figures on the provided sheet, sat quietly reading the newspaper that he had borrowed from his Uncle.

The reception teacher stopped short at his desk when she noted that instead of coloring, Harry was intently looking at the oversized _Financial Times_. He was tracing the large page vertically as he read about the joint French-American expedition that located the wreck of the _Titanic_. That of course led to questions, and more questions, and even more questions.

It was a bit entertaining watching the adults tripping over themselves complimenting him. How brilliant he was, how clever, how advanced. They rushed to accommodate his needs, mostly trying to get prestige for their little school, in their little town, in their little corner of the country. Trying to make themselves a part of history. As if his talents had anything to do with them. But Harry let them, because what else was there to do but wait until June of 1991 when he would finally get his Hogwarts letter.

At the same time it felt nice, the routine of it all. He was finally a part of the community. He waved to the neighbors, and they waved back. He tutored the twins from Number 12 in Spanish, he and Dudley played at the local footy club on Saturdays, he even walked Mrs Figg's cats and learned that cats liked going for walks, who knew.

Moving quickly through the primary school's curriculum was still boring of course but he smiled and did his work proficiently and expeditiously. After all, it was nothing compared to managing a primordial collection of beings for eons.

Things got a little bit more interesting once Harry reached Secondary School. It was hilarious to watch pubescent children glare in jealousy when they noticed him, a wee boy in their mist. He originally wanted to take his time through high school, maybe condensing five years into two but he just could not take it so he decided he would pull a Matilda and bulldozer his way through it all. In his first life his muggle education was sub par but that wasn't his fault. Wizards were idiots for thinking that only magic mattered in a world where ninety percent of the population didn't have any and he suffered because of it. He knew better now of course.

Best of all, the Dursleys no longer treated him like scum. He got attention, food, toys, trips to hamburger bars, outings to the beach in the summer, and most bizarre of all, love. He was hugged, he was warmly smiled at, his pictures and accolades were hung up in the living room. Uncle Vernon actually ruffled his hair after he passed his GCSE's at the age of six. Harry didn't take out his previous resentment on them. He didn't want to carry a grudge when given the chance to overcome his past. In fact, as a personal rule, he was never cruel if he could help it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: The Destiny's Child comment is straight from the show Psych, season 4 episode 7 called "High Top Fade Out."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A string around your finger never helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Can anyone spot all the references to Psych the TV show? or the one for Wall-E?

**CHAPTER 5**

Finally, after years of waiting he was on his way to Hogwarts.

Harry was sitting on the Express flipping through his first year potions book when the door to the compartment opened. It was a red headed boy with a brown smudge on his nose.

"Do you mind? Everywhere else is full?" The boy was holding a rat.

Harry nodded and proceeded to ignore him. Inside he was yelling at himself. 'Crap! I forgot about Sirius. I'm such a horrible godson.'

"I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

Harry looked up at the boy. "Methuselah Honeysuckle."

Ron looked surprised by the strange name. "Right. Ummm."

"This is Mrs Whittlebury, my owl. You can call her Hedwig." Harry gestured to the snowy owl perched by his trunk.

Ron held up the rat. "This is Scabbers. He doesn't do much."

"Well, the best villains stay hidden until everyone least expects it."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it." Harry waved his hand as if disregarding his last thought. Ron and the rat dropped like a ton of bricks on the floor. Harry moved Ron to the seat bench and pouted at the rat.

"Barrhk" Hedwig chimed in.

"No, you can't eat it. He's a prime witness." Harry hummed the theme song to Law & Order SVU. Hedwig glared before hiding her face in her wing. He pointed at the window and door casting spells so he wouldn't be interrupted. "Death?"

The woman shimmered into the seat next to him. "Hello, sir. Excited about Hogwarts?'

Harry nodded. "I'm going to raid the Room of Requirement."

"That's nice."

"Can you please hold on to this rat? I'll let you know what to do with him once I figure out how to get Sirius pardoned and freed."

"Of course, sir. Anything else?"

"Yes, actually. I just realized that I can't really call you like this at Hogwarts, too many people about. Any ideas?" Death flickered like a telly image righting itself and presented Harry with a box. "A calculator? Is this because of Henderson?" She shook her head. He took the device and read the branding. " _Sharp OZ-7000 Wizard Electronic Organizer_?"

"It has a memo pad, telephone book, calendar with alarms, multi-time zone clocks, and yes, a calculator."

Harry flipped it open and started pressing buttons at random. "What's this card one for?"

"IC Cards, for accessories. You can add a thesaurus, link it to a printer or add external memory."

Harry sighed. "You gave me a 90s Palm Pilot? All these buttons are so annoying. A touch screen would be better."

"I can't give you technology that hasn't been invented yet."

"Fine." He answered while his eyes were on the calculator function as he was finding the adjacency matrix A because it was always good to check your linear algebra. Satisfied he looked up. "What does this go for here?"

"£95."

Harry looked impressed. "That's like half an ounce of gold. Is this thing new?"

"No, this model was released last year. The newer 7200 model is £165."

"Ridiculous. Reminds me of the Apple craze. I was glad when the Pears took over in the twenty third century. The prices were more reasonable. So, we're using these to talk?"

"No, sir. It doesn't have that ability. That's why I also have this." She presented him with another box.

He took the mobile telephone from her. "It's a brick."

"It's a Nokia P4000, it was released last month."

"It weighs a ton."

"Five hundred and twenty grams."

"So I have two devices? That's not convenient."

"Would you rather memorize everyone's number?"

"When was email invented again?"

"Already has. It will start getting popular this year, actually."

He put the Nokia on his lap. "Are you listed as Death?" Harry clicked down the contact list on the PDA. "Daniel, Daisy, Dale, oh is it Deanna?"

"No."

"Who are all these people?"

"They work for you."

"If you say so. Now lets see, Denis, Devin…"

"Search faster."

"Alright, alright." He smiled at the device wildly. "Really. _Die,_ really? Bit on the nose, even for you." Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's pronounced Dee-eh, accent on the e. It's Mandarin."

"For?"

"Butterfly."

"Well, I don't believe you."

"Then find someone who speaks Mandarin and check with them."

"Good idea. I'll write Nan a letter and ask her. I promised to tell her about my new school anyway."

"You don't have a Nan."

"Sure I do."

"All your grandparents are dead."

"I know that. I might be insane sometimes but not stupid."

"Then how do you have a Chinese Nan?"

"Not biologically. Obviously."

"Fine. How do you have an un-biological Chinese grandmother?"

"Dudley and I visited the old folks home with Petunia in the Spring. Spreading Christmas cheer and all that."

"Christmas is in December."

"No, I don't think so. Probably moved it. Calendars do that. It was definitely a birthday celebration for Jesus. The theme was baby animals. Very cute. There were party games and everything. We scavenged for painted eggs and got these wicker baskets to collect them in. Then we ate a bunny shaped cake. I couldn't figure out why he got another birthday so soon after the last one but who am I to knock their religion. Bloke wants two birthdays in less than a year, that's his providence."

"You're describing Easter."

Harry kept going, ignoring what Die (accent on the e) said. "Oh wait, maybe it was a baby shower. That makes more sense. The pastel colors should have clued me in. Now I feel stupid."

"You're describing Easter," she said firmer and got his attention. "It's the observance of Jesus' death, not his birth or impending birth."

"That's macabre of them, isn't it? Being all happy about him dying. Or is it like Dia de Los Muertos, where it's a good death thing? I like that one, Mexicans have it right. I think it's like that, yeah, definitely, but with pastel colors and bunnies."

"Pardon?"

"Because if you think about it, eating chick shaped marshmallows, head first of course to be humane, has to be a happy thing, and not a 'muah-ha-ha' evil thing. Maybe. Probably not. Now I want a s'more. What were we talking about?"

"You adopted an old Asian lady."

"I didn't adopt an old Asian lady."

"You didn't?"

"Of course not. Ruth's Jamaican."

"Right."

"She's eighty seven, fit as fiddle, well, once she recovers from her broken hip. She showed me and Dudley how to do chin-ups and we taught her how to do the Chicken Dance. Quack quack quack quack." Harry proceeded to do the dance while sitting.

"You know a line dancing octogenarian who can do chin-ups and has a broken hip?"

"And speaks Chinese."

"I think I'm going to head back to the office now, sir. If I may?"

"Sure, sure. Is there a Manuel for these things?"

"Enjoy magic school, sir." Dié handed over the manuals before shimmering away with the rat.

Harry turned to Ron and tilted his head in thought. He rummaged through his pocket, found some lint and transfigured it into a Scabbers look alike. He placed the rat next to the boy, undid the spells on the window and door and went back to reading about the Cure for Boils.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phew, all sorted.

**CHAPTER 6**

Harry walked confidently to the stool and sat on it. The last thing he saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage. Loyal, I see. A good mind, too. There's talent, and my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and sang quietly in his mind trying to ignore all the stares. " _I want to fly like an eagle, To the sea, Fly like an eagle, Let my spirit carry me, I want to fly like an eagle, 'Til I'm free."_

The voice chuckled. "You would be great in any house, you know, it's all here in your head." Harry started singing the chorus. "Hmmm, yes. Better be RAVENCLAW!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked toward the Ravenclaw table. He was so relieved that the sorting hat didn't see anything important in his mind that he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Students shaking his hands while the Weasley twins yelled, "We lost Potter! We lost Potter! Boo!"

Dinner was a blur and then they were shuffled off to Ravenclaw tower. He now shared a room with five other boys, Terry Boot, Stephen Cornfoot, Kevin Entwhistle, Roger Malone and Oliver Rivers.

Classes started the following day and while boring. He blended very well with the other Ravenclaws as he had read most of the course materials over the summer.

Besides his sorting, the next biggest change was his potions class. Snape started the class by taking the roll call pausing at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new— _celebrity."_ He didn't react to the sarcastic barb as he found it entertaining. When Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His black, cold, empty eyes narrowed as he looked them over.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word—like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

That speech was as impressive as it was insulting.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Draught of the Living Death, sir." He made sure to keep his voice respectful, no need to further anger the surly man.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Lucky guess. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir."

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Nothing, sir, they are the same plant."

The man took a dramatic pause and continued barely above a whisper. "You are in fact in the correct House, Potter." And with that, he was ignored and the lesson started.

In a matter of weeks he settled in nicely. He found that while he wasn't overly friendly to anyone, as long as he was polite to everyone and lent a hand to his fellow first years in need than the staring all but disappeared into the crowd. He realized that by giving the public something of himself, just the smallest bit of attention, that they were satisfied. They no longer peered around each other to stare.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two truths and a lie.

**CHAPTER 7**

Harry was reading under a tree in the courtyard the last Saturday in September when he was interrupted.

"Are you _the_ Harry Potter?" the girl asked.

Harry looked up. He got flashes of this face. Hermione. She bit her lip and clutched two textbooks to her chest like a shield. One was _Hogwarts A History_ and the other _Biological Science Fundamentals Vol 1._ "Yes."

"Wow!" She whispered. "I didn't know you were a Wizard?" .

He noted the page he was on, closed the book and turned back to her. "You look younger than my usual crowd. I would remember someone my age in class."

"Oh no. Not me. My cousin, Clara, spent the entire summer raving about you. Can I tell her I met you?"

"Sure. Say hello for me. She's a great kid."

"You're a kid," interrupted Ron. He was passing by with the rest of the first year Gryffindor boys. It was a rare sunny day and most of the school seemed to be outside.

"I'm still mad at you. On the train you said your name was Meth something, not Harry Potter."

"Methuselah Honeysuckle."

"Yeah, that," he replied scowling down at Harry.

Not liking the height difference Harry stood but leaned back on the tree. He had been avoiding the Gryffindors actually. He was all too happy to keep his old friends alive but he knew that he was too different now for their friendship to be recreated. Plus, they were actually eleven while he was playing the part, at least physically. Harry turned back to Ron's rant about his fake name to answer but Hermione, bless her, took his attention away from Ron's horrible manners.

"Methuselah Honeysuckle? Is that like a pen-name?"

Harry shrugged. "I find that most magicals lose their ability to function properly when they hear my given name."

She nodded seeing his point. "I'm not sure what to be more impressed with. The science or the magic."

"What are you guys talking about?" this time it was a boy with an Irish accent. Seamus.

"He's Harry Potter," offered Hermione. The rest of them looked at her like she was stating the obvious because she was, they all knew who he was.

"Wait, you're _the_ Harry Potter?" asked a dark skinned boy. Dean. "From the Guildford Institute?"

Harry bowed his head in his direction. "The one and only. At your service."

Seamus asked another question. "What's the Guildford Institute?"

Before Hermione could give an encyclopedic response Harry responded. "It's a college near London. It has a great science department."

"I can't believe you're that Harry Potter," said Dean as he stared. "My brother is a huge fan. He went to the summer residential program last year. Swear he knows the secrets of the universe now."

"What's your brother's name?" asked Harry.

"David, David Myer. He's my half brother."

Harry nodded remembering him. "I heard he's doing well at Uni. Please send my regards to David. If he needs any assistance with his course work he can call or owl me. Same goes for Clara," Harry spoke the last bit to Hermione.

"How can they call you while you're here? There aren't any telephones?" Dean asked.

"Muggle technology doesn't work around magic. It says so in _Hogwarts: A History_ ," Hermione quantified.

"Of course it does, what a silly thing to say," Harry shook his head. "My calls are being forward to me. There was no way I was going to be isolated in the middle of nowhere in Scotland for months on end. That's ridiculous."

"It's not silly, it's what the book said. I'll show you," defended Hermione as she started flipping through one of the books she was holding.

"I know what the book says. I read it." She closed the book. "I meant, how could muggle technology not work around magic. That's nonsense. All of London would be a dead-zone because of Diagon Alley, the Ministry and St Mungo's. There are over six and a half million people in London, I think they would notice if their telephones stopped working. Let alone their entire electric grid. I mean, you live in a muggle house, in a muggle neighborhood, right?" At Hermione's nod he continued. "Have you blown up all the stuff in your house? The telly still works? The toaster? The lights?" She nodded again. "You have magic and all that stuff works with you there. While using it. Same thing applies everywhere else."

"That's not true," this time it was Percy who responded having heard Harry. He had walked by to make sure they weren't getting into a fight. "My father is a fan of muggles and complains that he can't get their stuff to work in magic heavy areas."

"Wards," Harry replied easily.

"Pardon?" Percy blinked at Harry.

"Large areas are warded against muggle technology. Once you cross their perimeter it neutralizes non magical items but they can't ward the entire island, the muggles would notice."

"You mean if wizards live in a muggle area then they can use muggle technology?" Hedged Percy.

"Of course. Most of the time it's a matter of Wizards not knowing how to handle them, getting frustrated and blowing up the machine. If you know what you're doing then your magic won't react to your frustrated emotions. Children aren't the only ones that have bouts of accidental magic."

"Wow, I never thought of that, and I'm half and half," offered Seamus.

"Here let me show you," Harry reached into his back pocket and removed the brick. "Who wants to make a call?"

"You have a mobile telephone! Could I really call my parents?" asked Hermione hopefully.

"Sure, here, it works like a regular phone. The signal isn't bad out here. Gets dodgy in the castle."

Hermione took the device and held it like it was a rare book. She pressed the power button and they all watched as the small gray screen lit up. "It's a long distance, my parent's practice is in Hampstead. Are you sure I can call them?"

"No worries," Harry waved her off. She pulled the antenna out then pressed the white rectangular numbers and waited for the connection. Distant ringing could be heard.

"Hi Monica, it's Hermione. Is my mother available?" Hermione spoke into the mobile then covered the end and looked at Harry. "It works, that was their secretary." She focused back on the call. "Mum? It's me. I know. I didn't think I could call you either. One of my classmates has a mobile and is letting me use it. Isn't it great?"

While Hermione was rambling to her mother a crowd had assembled. Those who knew what was going on told the others. The purebloods didn't understand what the big deal was but the muggleborns and half-bloods were excited about the possibilities.

"How is it working? I brought a calculator to help me with Arithmancy and it died when I tried to use it. Once I got home, no matter how many batteries I replaced, it wouldn't turn on." This came from an older Ravenclaw student whose name Harry didn't know.

"There are runes etched on the inside, otherwise the same thing will happen."

"Really? What kind of runes?" This came from Percy.

Hermione finished up her call, she was glowing with happiness and returned the device to its owner.

"Lunch is starting soon. Let's head in. I'll explain as we go." Harry led the mass inside.

"You know runes?" asked Hermione. "I thought that was only available for study starting in third year."

"I like to skip ahead," he winked at her because she was already in on the secret. Then he turned to the Ravens that were looking at him expectantly as they walked. "It has a combination base of algiz, galdrastafir and baldur. They are interlaid and have to be powered during the waxing moon every month."

"Algiz is for protection which I understand. But doesn't baldur mean sea or water. And I've never heard of the other one," Percy said from behind Harry.

"Baldur can also mean stranger or other when combined with galdrastafir, which is Icelandic and usually used for repelling evil spirits. But with baldur it repels harmful energy, in this case the wards repelling the technology. The ward and the rune repel each other. And as every knows, a negative plus negative makes a positive."

"A negative multiplied by a negative equals a positive," corrected Hermione.

"It sure does." Harry nodded.

"Three runes? That's it?" someone asked from the group.

"Of course not, those are the base. There's also a peoro and a naudiz."

"You can't combine an Elder Fauthark with a proto-German rune." This time it was the first girl that spoke up. He finally recognized her as Penelope.

"You can because naudiz has a Icelandic root and galdrastafir is Icelandic. They balance out the magical algorithm."

The sight of several dozen students, from different years and houses surrounding Harry Potter shocked the teachers at the Head table. Most followed to the Ravenclaw table.

"You're really smart," complimented Seamus as he sat across from Harry next to Hermione who also sat down across from Harry. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but it all sounds impressive."

Harry tilted his head in his direction, "Thank you."

"Of course he's smart. He's Harry Potter," offered Dean who sat down next to Harry. He felt surrounded by Gryffindors.

"Did he defeat You-Know-Who with his brain then?" asked Ron who was at his own table. Percy tutted at him for his insensitivity.

"No," said Harry, "but my mother did." That caused quite a stir.

"WHAT!" was chorused up and down the table.

"You can't possibly think that I did anything to cause his defeat?" Harry looked around, noting that the hall was quite full now. By the looks he was getting he knew that they did believe the hype. "Alright, let's get this over with. I'm going to explain this once, only once, so feel free to spread it about. This is the first and last time I'm talking about it." The entire table was silent and alert which caught the attention of the other Houses. In less than a minute the entire hall was muted. Harry ignored the looks from the Head table and let his voice carry. "Can anyone tell me what happened on Halloween 1981?"

The crowd shifted and there were murmurs. Surprising to some, but not Harry, it was shy Neville that spoke clearly from the Gryffindor table. "You-Know-Who went after your family. Your parents died and he tried to kill you but somehow you broke his power. You survived and he didn't."

Harry nodded. "And how do you know that? How does everyone know that?" He didn't wait for a response. "There were four of us there. I was the only one found alive. How does everyone know what happened?"

"Are you saying you didn't defeat him?" asked Hermione.

"I'm saying that I was a baby. Also, no one ever asked me about it. So how does everyone know?"

"Dumbledore," Hermione said as she looked up to the Head table. "In _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ it says that Dumbledore made a statement at the Ministry the day after it happened." She looked back at Harry. "He announced that you survived an attack from You-Know-Who."

"Not just any attack."

"The Killing Curse," she whispered. "It left you with a lighting scar on your head." She looked at Harry's forehead.

He brushed the hair away from his forehead, showing that it was blemish free. "Every hero needs a mark of distinction."

"You don't have the scar?!" Seamus said disappointed. Many peered to look and the whispered rippled through the hall. Up to that point no one had gotten a clear view of his forehead and all assumed he had the scar hidden by his messy black hair.

Harry was looking at Hermione across from him who looked devastated because one of her precious books misled her. "For a long time all I remembered was a flash of green light." That shut them all up. "Then I remembered a voice. Eventually it all came to me. I both loathe and cherish the memory. My father telling my mother to take me and run; my mother begging for my life. She invoked an ancient rite of sacrifice. Hers for mine. I survived because my mother had a mind that could not be matched. She outsmarted him." He sighed heavily. "Yes, she died, but she made sure to take him with her. It's a horrible memory but it's all I have of her face, her voice, her strength, her intelligence, her love. Besides my own life."

Hermione had tears rolling down her face, as did many in the hall. "Oh Harry."

"I've come to terms with it. Don't pity me. But back to how we got here," he turned to Seamus. "Before Hogwarts, Dean and Hermione didn't know me as _Harry Potter The Boy Who Lived."_

"Then why do they keep saying your name like you're famous to them too?" asked Seamus.

Harry looked around and caught Neville's eye who blushed. "I didn't get your name?" Which confused people.

"Longbottom, Neville Longbottom." The name was whispered.

Harry got up from the table and walked towards the boy to extend his hand which he took and they shook. "Pleasure to meet you Neville Longbottom. I'm Dr Harry James Potter."

"Doctor? Like a healer?" asked Neville in shock after dropping his hand.

Harry shook his head and went to sit back at his table. "Doctor as in Doctorate."

"What's a doctorate?" asked Neville.

Hermione answered. "It's the highest educational degree you can earn in the muggle world. It's the equivalent of having two Masteries."

"Two Masteries!" Neville squeaked out. "You're eleven."

"He earned them when he was nine," she clarified.

"NINE!" several people called out.

"Yes, I found school boring and moved quickly through the years." Harry answered before looking at the platters of food that appeared and taking an egg-mayo roll.

"Are you a famous doctor then?" asked Seamus.

Harry finishes his bite of food and wipes his mouth before answering. "Only because of my age."

"Clara says you're the best lecturer in the entire college."

"David said it was in the entire world."

"You lecture?" asked Percy, impressed from his spot down the table.

"Only part time. I mostly research."

"Is that why you're in Ravenclaw?" someone yelled from the Gryffindor table.

Harry smiled. "I'm an eagle. The hat agreed." That caused a cheer from his fellow housemates.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where we appreciate science.

**CHAPTER 8**

At the Head table, Albus turned to Bathsheda Babbling. "My dear, didn't you deliver young Harry's letter?"

"Yes, Headmaster. I hand delivered the letter to Mr Potter."

"If it wouldn't be a problem, would you share how that venture went."

* * *

Bathsheda Babbling looked at the tall baroque style building and frowned. She could not believe that Albus volunteered, well, demanded, that she hand deliver this Hogwarts letter. She thought it was a waste of time as she had actual muggle born students to introduce to the magical world. Potter had probably grown up regaled with stories about his parents' time in school. She would hand over the letter and leave. Job done.

She walked into the building and headed towards the room indicated on the letter.

_H. Potter_

_Room 710_

_Witte Hall_

_Guildford Institute_

_Surrey_

She could not fathom what the boy was doing at a college but she didn't care. She quickly found the room and was surprised it was a large auditorium style space. The door, which was at the top back of the stadium-like seating was wide open and she slipped in unnoticed. The room filled with several dozen teenagers milling around. She scanned the mass looking for a child, it wouldn't be hard to find him she was sure. As she hugged the walls she overheard the excited chatter of the pimple faced miscreants.

"... so young."

"...adorable…"

"Don't let him hear you say that, you'll get kicked out of class."

"I wish I was that smart."

"Don't we all. What did you get on the last quiz?"

"A five."

"Oh, perfect score. I messed up the last one."

"How could you forget about van de Waals interactions? It's…"

A loud, yet clear, child's voice rang through the room, quieting them all. "Please find your seats and turn to page 211."

Bathsheda clenched her jaw in order to stop herself from gaping like a fish. At the bottom of the rows of desks, standing behind the instructor podium was a green-eyed, black haired child that she could only assume was Harry Potter. She dropped heavily into the nearest chair in shock.

"Water," the child's voice was very serious, "is critical for maintaining life. Have any of you wondered why scientists spend time looking for water on other planets?" A teenage girl around the age of sixteen raised her hand. "Yes, Clara?"

"It's because water is essential to life, sir."

"Correct. Even minute traces of it on other planets can indicate that life could or did exist there. Water is one of the most abundant molecules of living cells and the most critical to life as we know it. As much as seventy percent of your body is made of water. Simply, without it, life would not exist."

Bathsheda watched almost entrances as a ten year old Harry Potter lectured a room full of students years older than himself. He was engaging and the students asked questions respectfully. She forced herself to pay attention as her thoughts had drifted.

"Sir," Bathsheda found it a tad comical that he was addressed as such, "it's because the slightly positive hydrogen atom repels each other and forms the unique shape. Each water molecule attracts others because of the positive and negative charges in the different parts of the molecule."

Potter nodded. "Correct. Water also attracts other polar molecules, such as sugars, forming hydrogen bonds. When a substance readily forms hydrogen bonds with water, it can dissolve in water and is referred to as hydrophilic, a word of Greek origin meaning water-loving. These bonds are not readily formed with nonpolar substances like oils and fats. Everyone knows the saying for incompatibility, like oil and water, right?" The students nodded in agreement. "Those compounds are hydrophobic, water-fearing, and will not dissolve in water." Potter looked at the large clock on the west facing wall then addressed the class again. "Well, folks, that's it for today. Please read the pH meter section on your own. Next class we're moving on to carbon. Class dismissed."

Bathsheda watched the students pack up their notes and texts. A couple hung back to ask questions that she couldn't hear. She waited for the majority of the hoard to clear before walking down the steps towards the desk. Potter sat behind it with Clara on the other side, he was pointing out a chart in her book.

"... ions is basic and has a high pH value."

"I think I got it. Thank you so much, Dr Potter."

"Harry, please. I know it's strange calling your lecturers by their first name, but you're an adult now. It's not offensive."

"Right, Harry. Thanks again." She grabbed her book and dashed away.

"Can I help you?" Potter asked with a smile as he gathered his notes from the desk.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be a professor?"

"I'm qualified, I can assure you."

"Are you really Harry Potter?"

"Yes."

"Here," Bathsheda shoved the letter in his direction. She watched as the boy's forehead scrunched in confusion but took it anyway.

Potter read the address. "That's rather specific. I only teach here on Tuesdays." He turned it around, examined the wax seal before breaking it and removing the two sheets of parchment within. His eyes scanned the letterhead. "Oh, you're from Hogwarts then?"

"I knew you didn't need the muggle-born visit, I'll take my leave then." Bathsheda turned to leave and put this strange afternoon out of her mind.

"Wait, madam."

"What is it?" she turned back.

"I know a bit about the school but since my Aunt didn't attend she wasn't able to explain a lot. I would appreciate it if you did go through with whatever a muggle-born visit entails."

"Hogwarts is…." but she was interrupted.

"Could we move this meeting to my office? Only, there is another class here in fifteen minutes and I don't want to be overhead."

Bathsheda felt ridiculous following the child through two corridors and five flights of stairs to a small and tidy office.

"Would you like some tea?" Potter offered.

"No thank you."

"My colleague," Potter gestured to the other desk in the office, "doesn't teach summer classes, so I don't expect to be interrupted."

"What about your students?"

"I have scheduled drop-in hours Thursday evenings."

Bathsheda nodded and felt ridiculous sitting on the guest side of the desk as if she were the student. "What was the class you were teaching?" She couldn't help her curiosity.

"Introduction to BioScience. It covers the fundamental life processes, from the behaviour of single cells to entire ecosystems. And what do you teach?"

"Rune. Ancient Runes."

"Really, how interesting."

* * *

The staff was silent after Bathsheda's recount.

"Pardon?" Minerva almost choked on her drink. "He's an actual lecturer? He's eleven."

"He seems very mature," added Albus as if that helped anything.

"I wonder why this hasn't come up before?" inquired Flitwick. "He never said anything."

"And his family? Did he talk to you about them?" asked Albus, ignoring the man.

"He showed me pictures of the four of them holidaying in Majorca."

"Well then, that's that. I'm happy that everything turned out alright," twinkled Albus.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the scream queens.

**CHAPTER 9**

Halloween came quite quickly and quietly. The feast was supposed to be fantastic but Harry skipped it. Instead, he was cataloging items in the Room of Requirement. He was having a great old time sorting through it all. After all, not everyone appreciates a good filing system.

Friday, November 1st did come with a surprise for the Wizarding public,

Breakfast was proceeding as usual until the post was delivered. A wave of exclamations rippled through the students and staff. Terry Boot, being the quickest reader in their year, stared wide eyed at the front page of the Prophet. The silence in the hall telling. Harry looked around the hall.

"What's going on?" he heard Oliver loudly ask, mouth full of a bacon butty.

"Don't speak with your mouthful," admonished Penelope, being a prefect, before continuing to flip through her copy of the paper at a dizzying rate. In a voice full of authority she continued. "The Minister has made a statement regarding a scrofungulus outbreak in Azkaban. Several high profile criminals have been identified as having succumbed to the disease."

"Who cares about a bunch of evil gits?" replied Oliver.

"Don't be insensitive. Some of the students here have relatives in Azkaban, look at the name list," admonished Penelope.

"Who died?" asked Roger.

"The Lestranges. All known Death Eaters," Su replied to a wide eyed Roger. Who then suddenly grabbed the paper from her and read the article before dropping the paper and rushing out of the room.

"What's up with him?" someone else asked.

"Don't know, ran out after reading about a bunch of dead people in Azkaban," offered Oliver.

"OLIVER!" screeched Penelope.

* * *

As the term continued the list of scrofungulus victims increased. It was killing more and more prisoners in Azkaban. But it didn't stop there. By the first Friday in December prominent members of the Ministry were also dying. Many Hogwarts students were excused to attend family funerals. People were scared.

"I can't believe this is happening," Su mumbled as she read the new addition to the list on Sunday morning. Harry sat next to her as she was the calmest and quietest of their year group.

"Who cares about a bunch of criminals?" said Oliver

"Oliver!" Penelope admonished from down the table. "These are your classmates' family members. How would you feel if this was someone in your family?"

"Alright, alright, sorry," he said, face bright red in embarrassment.

"St Mungo's is still trying to figure out what's going on. How it got from Azkaban to the rest of Magical Britain since none of the guards tested have been positive," Su summarized the article she finished.

"Should we be worried about this thing getting us then?" asked Roger

"I'm not sure," answered Penelope. "If it is scrofungulus then everyone in the castle would have been exposed to it from the beginning since the Headmaster has been visiting Azkaban often in his role as Supreme Mugwump during the investigations. I just don't understand how it can be scrofungulus though. It's not deadly if treated, even if it is contagious."

"What is it exactly?" asked Pavarti who was from Gryffindor but was sitting at their table having breakfast with her sister Padma, who was in Ravenclaw. "I mean, what does it do?"

"Really! Haven't you been paying attention to me at all this past month?" complained Padma

"You don't make it make sense," Parvati complained right back.

"Fine," huffed Padma. "It's similar to tuberculosis but local to the neck. Swelling, discoloration, fever, chills, malaise, and lesions are common. In the muggle world it is completely curable with antibiotics. I looked it up in the Library and the last outbreak in Hogwarts was the year before we started. But no one died then."

"In English?" Pavarti asked and Padma huffed.

"There are people in Azkaban dying and someone, not in Azkaban, also died, all of the same disease and St Mungo's is trying to figure out why since it's curable," Harry summarized for her.

"I wouldn't have said it quite that way, but in essence, Harry is correct," replied Padma.

"If it's curable, why is it killing people now?" asked Padma, looking concerned.

"I'm not sure, it could be a new strain, or has symptoms similar to scrofungulus but actually be a new disease altogether. That can happen. New diseases are discovered all the time." Padma offered.

"Who's on the list today then?" asked Oliver.

"Dolohov and McNair," Su read from the paper.

"Sounds like this new disease is killing off Death Eaters," offered Oliver. "What's wrong with that?"

"That's ridiculous," snapped Penelope from her seat. "And stop being so insensitive to our classmates!" She finished the statement slamming down her copy of the paper.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to the rat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: References to Magic in the Mist. Look up the illustrations, the main character is exactly what I picture Harry Potter to look like.

**CHAPTER 10**

It had been six weeks since the outbreak was announced in the Prophet and the number of deaths, both in Britain, and abroad, were sporadic but not diminishing. The public was wary but relieved as rumor had it that it only killed Death Eaters.

On Thursday, December 13th the Prophet caused another wave of exclamation over the Great Hall. Slashed on the cover was " _ **Sirius Black Pardoned! A Tragic Tale of Betrayal and Injustice!"**_ The head of the DMLE Amelia Bones made a statement regarding the recent discovery of a very much alive Peter Pettigrew suffering from scrofungulus in a Muggle hospital which led to an investigation as he was presumed dead. The article succinctly detailed the true events of Halloween 1981. Sirius Black was found to be innocent via a late night trial and veritaserum sometime in November. All very dramatic.

Once the newspapers were passed around, the starring would not stop.

"I wish they would stop gawking at me," grumbled Harry into his porridge.

"Mate, why didn't you tell us that Sirius Black was your godfather!" asked Terry.

"No one told me. How was I supposed to tell you then?" All technically true here.

"Harry," Su quietly said to him. "You mean no one has told you about him? Hasn't he written to you since he was released? What about the Headmaster? He was at his trial according to the paper."

"Nope, not a word from either one of them. It's not anything new. I don't get told the important bits, especially when it affects me. Didn't know about Voldemort until I got my Hogwarts letter." That was only true the first time but still true anyway. Everyone in hearing distance cringed at the Dark Git's name. "I'm not surprised things are being kept from me. I should just move to the hut on the rock and live in isolation. You'd come with me Jeremy. Right, Jere?" Harry paused to rub the pad of his pointer finger between the eyes of Neville's pet toad, who liked him better, always hopping away from Neville to find Harry, and so he renamed it. He received a happy hum in response. "He agrees."

Su patted Harry's free hand and chose to ignore the toad. Everyone ignore Harry talking to it and chalked it to him being eccentric as part of his genius. "I'm sure they were busy with the trial, is all."

"Yeah, Harry. Dad's told me how complicated trials are. They were probably caught up with all of that mess," defended Terry.

"Sure, sure," Harry waved them off as he held out a hand few dry flies to Jeremy who gave him a hum in thanks. Toads were better than people. Now all he needed was a dragon and he would be set.

"I wonder how Pettigrew kept hidden all these years," inquired Terry.

"Maybe he'll die in Azkaban like the rest of those disgusting Death Eaters," offered Oliver as he patted Harry's back.

"Oliver! I thought we discussed your lack of sensitivity in this matter!" shouted Penelope from down the table.

"What!? Pettigrew doesn't have kids here, does he?" Oliver looked around like an idiot looking for baby rats. Mouses. Mices. Mice. Whatever.

* * *

It wasn't until he was hauling a stack of books from the library, not caring that it was the start of the holidays, that Harry was called to the Headmaster's office. Once he stepped inside the office he was enthusiastically greeted by three people instead of one.

"Dr Potter, please have a seat." All the Professors had been calling him that, well except Snape, since he announced to the whole school that he had a doctorate. "Professor Flitwick, thank you for bringing him, you may go."

"Actually, Headmaster, if it's all the same to you, I would rather Professor Flitwick stay."

"Oh?"

"Having never been called to your office," as far as he knew, "I am not sure of the nature of this meeting. I would feel better if my Head of House stayed as loco parentis as my legal guardians are outcasts in this world and would not be called in if I requested it. That is, if you don't mind staying sir," Harry kept his face neutral as he observed the men gathered as he spoke and looked at Professor Flitwick for a response.

Professor Flitwick was the first to recover. "Of course I will stay, if that is what you need, Dr Potter." The older man gave him a gentle smile then turned to the others.

"Yes, yes. Of course, Dr Potter, your Head of House may stay," replied Dumbledore.

"What do you mean your guardians are outcasts in the magical world?" snarled, who he knew was Sirius Black from the newspaper articles. Not having been introduced to the man he took a step back as any scared child would do and looked at Professor Flitwick for assistance.

"Calm down, Sirius," said the third man as he pulled him to a seat.

"Why don't we all have a seat," replied the Headmaster. "Dr Potter, this is Sirius Black, your godfather, and Remus Lupin, a friend of his and of your late fathers."

"A pleasure, I'm sure," greeted Harry, again, his face neutral with a bored tone. The four men shared wary glances.

"You may have read about Sirius in the Prophet, such a tragic miscarriage of justice. But now he's free and of course requested to be reunited with you."

"So," Harry looked the man over, "you're really my godfather then?" Harry might have forgotten about the man for six years but in his defense he hadn't seen him in hundreds of years. Plus, he was busy with school. What was his excuse for not writing to him since he got out?

"Yes, yes I am. I was even there when you were born. Your parents were so proud. You did your first bit of magic at just four weeks old, levitating a bottle to you because you were hungry. You look like James, but with Lily's eyes." The man was rambling.

"Am I going to live with you? Now that you're free?"

"Won't you miss your family, Harry?" asked Remus.

"Yes," Harry answered slowly because he would miss this version of them. Not the horrible people they were thanks to the soul parasite. "But they don't understand the magical world. If I am expected to stay in this world," they all stiffened as if they never considered that he would turn his back on it all. "I should live in it. In fact, I don't know whose ridiculous idea it was to place me there in the first place." He did of course know and liked to twist the knife.

"They were your only family, Dr Potter," replied Dumbledore."

"It's irresponsible to place an orphaned magical child with non-magical people." A tiny bit of him understood how Tom Riddle snapped, but just a speck size bit.

"Don't you love your family?" the man asked.

Harry ignored the stupid question. "When my parents died, my mother and aunt were not on good terms. What if they had rejected me? I could have been in the system. Or worse yet, what if she did take me in but then resented me for her sister's death and abused me as a result?" Which was kind of what happened thanks to the parasite.

"Did any of that happen?" asked Remus worried.

"All I will say is that it took years for them not to hate me for being different. I've left that in the past but I can not, will never, forgive whoever made that decision." His statement was met with surprised expressions.

"Actually," Dumbledore shifted and coughed before continuing, "I was the one who left you with your Aunt."

"Indeed," was all that Harry said, not willing to take back his words because he was right. Remus opened his mouth but didn't say anything. The tension was rising and the four men shifted uncomfortably. "The articles mentioned that the trial occurred weeks ago, why are we meeting now, Mr Black?" Harry looked to the man.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, but I've been in hospital since the trial," Sirius spoke finally.

"Why? What's wrong?" asked Harry, showing concern and breaking his mark of neutrality.

"Ten years in Azkaban did a lot of damage. It took all this time to heal even with magic."

"Oh, sorry, are you really okay now?" Now he was feeling really bad for leaving there for so long. But then again, he did help him gain his freedom. Does that cancel out the guilt. Maybe. Yes. Probably not.

"Yeah, kid, I'm all patched up."

"That's great, Mr Black. But it would have been nice to be told directly instead of finding out from the newspaper like everyone else." Harry could hold a grudge and this was a sticking point.

"I'm sorry about that. It's just that…" Sirius fumbled with his words and looked at Dumbledore

Harry caught the exchange. "Right. Got it." He was upset. Why do adults think they know better. He wanted to punch the old man on the nose but knew not to act out as it would seem childish. He took a deep breath, sang the periodic table song in his head to calm down, and gave Sirius a sad smile. "Thank you for letting me know you're better, Mr Black. Is that why I was called up here, sir?" He directed the question at Dumbledore. If they didn't want him, well he didn't want them either.

"No, my boy. I was informed that you were staying in the castle for Christmas and thought you may like to spend the break with Sirius instead, now he's received a clean bill of health."

"Really?" he asked both hopeful and skeptical. Dumbledore nodded. "I'd love to." The Black Family did have a rather interesting library last he checked.

* * *

Twelve Grimmauld Place was a nice break from the loud and crowded school. Harry was relaxing in the sitting room several days after arriving, reading an advance defense book when he was interrupted.

"Master Harry, Kreacher has made you a warm drink," the house-elf placed the tray on the coffee table and bowed his head.

"Thank you, Kreacher, you're too good to me," Harry replied with a wide smile. He put down his book and reached for the treat.

"Master Harry is a good master," Kreacher replied and popped away.

Harry passed steaming mugs of hot chocolate to Sirius and Remus. "Here you go." Then he took a sip of his own, sighed happily as he chewed the mini marshmallows. He was about to return to his book when he was interrupted again.

"Why has he been so nice to you? He's never nice to me," complained Sirius from his spot on the couch across.

"We chatted a bit and bonded. He's great."

"What could you possibly have to talk to that thing about?"

"Don't call him names. Kreacher is a very good and loyal house-elf. And well, I ran into him when I first got here. You know, since you gave me Regulus' old room." It also helped that Harry had given the elf the fake locket from the cave as a gesture of good faith. Kreacher appreciated that Harry finished the task his old master had given him.

"Is that why the house has been getting so much cleaner?" asked Remus looking around.

"Yes, he just needed a bit of motivation and an understanding ear. The place will be tip-top before the summer. He is working alone after all and it's years of crud to clean," replied Harry.

"You actually made friends with my deranged house-elf?" asked a startled Sirius.

"He's not deranged. And yes, we're friends. Which means I want you to be nice to him. He agreed not to be rude to you or any guests, I mean, hello, he brought you hot chocolate too."

"You have more marshmallows," complained Sirius.

"We all got five. And if you stop antagonizing him he'll be nice to you too. I know you didn't get along with your family, but he loved your brother and I know he will honour his memory by serving you well if you let him."

"What!? Reggie was a Death Eater! I don't want anyone being chummy with a house-elf that supports that stupidity, especially not my godson."

"Regulus died a traitor. He died betraying Big Bad Snake Face. Yes, he joined willingly but he changed his mind and died trying to bring him down. Kreacher knows this."

"And how do you know this?" asked Remus since Sirius was staring at Harry mouth-open in surprise.

"Kreacher told me."

"You can't believe anything he says." Sirius finally snapped out of it. "He's a filthy liar!"

"And I've read his journals. Your parents kept all his stuff. He also had a hidden compartment under the floorboard of his closet. He wanted to redeem himself. He really did betray Voldemort. Would you like to read them yourself?"

Sirius nodded and Harry got up to retrieve them. The three of them spent the rest of the evening reading the journals. Sirius was finally able to mourn his brother.

The next day, after making a truce with Sirius, Kreacher removed the screaming portrait of Mrs Black.

The rest of the school break was drama free and much appreciated.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Shows and Movies references in this chapter were As Time Goes By, Psych, and Legally Blond.

**CHAPTER 11**

"Potter, stay," barked out Snape as the class packed up their supplies. It was the first Potions lesson of the Spring term and he was already in trouble.

"Yes, sir," he replied dully.

Su leaned over and whispered. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," he whispered back but by the look he got back she did not believe him.

The class filed out, while shooting glances at Harry and Snape. Harry sat in his seat and waited. Once the room was empty, Snape waved his wand at the door. Harry recognized the locking and silencing spells but didn't comment or nor did he move. After about five minutes of silence in which Snape tried to eviscerate him with his eyes, he finally spoke in a low threatening voice.

"What. Did. You. Do?!"

Harry tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Sir?"

"Don't play stupid, Potter. How did you do it?" Harry simply tilted his head to the other side. "Insolent brat. You sent me a ridiculously cheerful Yule card…"

"I hope you liked the singing llamas, sir. I was going to go with robins, but I thought you might appreciate something unconventional."

"Don't interrupt me!" He shouted. Harry nodded and pressed his lips together. "I screen all my post and that card did not have jinxes or curses on it but it still managed to render me unconscious. When I awoke my arm was sore. Can you tell me why, Mr Potter?" Harry nodded. "Speak then!"

"Your mark was gone, sir."

"HOW?!"

"Magic, sir." Harry offered with a completely serious face.

"POTTER!"

"Am I in trouble for removing it, sir? I didn't think you wanted to keep it. Especially with all the speculations about the disease targeting marked Death Eaters. With someone as high profiled and well connected as Lucius Malfoy dying of it just before Yule I figured you wanted to avoid his fate." The man snarled in response. "I apologize for making that assumption, sir. I don't know how to return it to you." He paused thoughtfully, looking away from him for a few seconds before looking back and continuing. "Though, I've been informed that scrofungulus can be contracted quite easily if you truly feel resigned." He said this all in a clear, confident voice.

"How did you know I had the mark? How did you remove it?" Snape demanded.

Harry shrugged. "Magic, sir. Am I in trouble?"

"Don't think this makes me indebted to you in any way."

"Of course not, sir."

"Do not say a word of this to anyone."

"Of course not, sir."

"Get out!"

Harry picked up his bag and headed off to his dorm, glad classes were done for the day.

Besides Snape glaring at him for a couple of weeks, everything went back to normal. The rest of the year passed without any trouble.

* * *

It was times like this that he regretted coming to Hogwarts. He wished he could tell the old man to jump from the Astronomy Tower. Oh, hmm, they'd done that one. Maybe drown him in the lake? Yeah, the lake. Or feed him to Aragog. Or to the Basilisk, she turned out to be very fond of Harry this time around. She deserved a snack. Did that make him a bad person? Yes. No. Maybe. Probably. No, sticking with no.

"I don't understand why, Headmaster. Why must I return to Privet Drive when Sirius has been cleared by the Ministry and St Mungo's. Grimmauld Place has been completely restored. Why must I return?" He didn't hate the Dursleys but he knew that they would be better living in denial of magic without him around. Except Dudley, he was counting on him having a truck load of magical kids. Harry would be an awesome uncle. Mini flying brooms for the lot of them.

"My boy," Harry was definitely going to punch him on the nose one day. "It is only for the summer holidays. I'm sure your Aunt, Uncle and Cousin miss you. Our families and our homes are such a precious gift, they must be treasured. You can spend Christmas with Sirius."

"Every known, and unknown, Death Eater is six feet under. There hasn't been a marked body discovered in weeks. I am not in danger."

"Trust me, Harry."

"Sir…"

"The protections provided by the wards must be maintained for your safety. Spend time with your family."

"Right," was all Harry could muster as a response because otherwise he might set the man's beard on fire. He was sure he could get Fawkes' to help. He glanced at the bird and it hummed at him in agreement. That made him feel better.

* * *

"Albus, are you there!" shouted a voice from the fire. He rushed over.

"Arabella, has there been an attack?"

"The Dursley's are gone!"

After a few seconds of shock he responded. "Please permit me passage, madam."

"Of course," she replied.

Several more seconds later and Albus stepped into the sitting room of Arabella Figg. "Now dear, please tell me what you mean."

The story tumbled out. Vernon received a promotion at work and the entire family moved to Australia. The house was recently sold and the new owners were moving in that very afternoon.

"How did this happen? Why didn't you inform me of this when it occurred?"

"I didn't know. I was here the day he came back from Hogwarts and for a couple of weeks after but then I had to leave town. I did send you an owl. My cousin Fay, down in Dorset, was having issues with her inflamed tendons and needed help with her shop. You know, she has a..."

"Yes, yes, my dear. I know. She has a West Highland White called Flora who gets on famously with your cats."

"Oh, you do remember."

"You speak of her often."

"Yes, well. I came back last night and learned about the latest gossip when I went to do my shopping this morning. The neighborhood is still buzzing with the news. Nothing happens around here so any change is big news."

"This is quite unfortunate." The old man sighed. "Harry might have written to Sirius. I must check, can I use your floo, dear?"

"Of course, Albus, go ahead."

* * *

"I can't believe you left me to deal with Dumbledore on my own," complained Sirius during dinner.

"You had Remus," quipped back Harry.

"He barely said anything."

"You're the adults, it's your responsibility to deal with old men trying to kidnap me."

"Harry, I don't think Dumbledore was trying to kidnap you," said Remus.

"That's what it looks like from where I'm sitting. He wants to take me away against my will. That's kidnapping."

"You should have told us that your Aunt and Uncle left the country," Remus continued.

"Why? It's not like I moved to Australia."

"You should have told us anyway. What if we couldn't find you? Owls don't travel that far," said Sirius.

"They gave me permission to stay behind. That's why I came here. You said I was welcome anytime. Did you lie?"

"Of course not, Harry. You are always welcomed here," Sirius squeezed his hand. "It was a big surprise learning all of that from Dumbledore, is all. Next time something big happens, tell us."

Harry shrugged instead of responding because he didn't lie if necessary.

* * *

"Harry?"

"Yes, Remus?"

"Why aren't you on your way to school?"

It was noon on the first of September and Harry was enjoying a cheeseburger and chips that Kreacher had prepared. It had taken almost the entire summer to convenience the house-elf to make muggle food and he was reaping the benefits.

"Why would I be in school?"

"Because it's the start of term."

"I'm not teaching this term. I have clinical trials to oversee."

"Not at the college, Harry. Hogwarts." Remus sat down joining Harry at the dining table.

"Oh, that school."

"Yes, that school."

"I don't need to go there either. I'm all set." Harry hummed happily as he chewed his food. He was contemplating getting a mate for Jeremy now that he was living with him full time. Neville had given up trying to corral him back sometime in February.

"What do you mean you're all set?"

"I'm done with Hogwarts."

"How can you be done? You've only completed one year."

"I know. I was there. I learned everything I need to know in life from school. I'm set for life."

"Pardon?"

"Don't show any fear. Don't split any infinitives. Don't dangle your participles."

"Harry!"

"Oh alright." Harry put down his burger. "You're going to want proof. Let me go get it. You can go fetch Sirius. I don't like repeating myself."

A couple of minutes later Remus, Sirius and Harry were sitting at the dining room table.

"What's going on Harry?" asked Sirius. He had been sleeping in after a late night out with his latest lady friend, when Remus barged into his room and dragged him out.

"Here you go." Harry passed him an envelope with the Ministry seal on it.

Sirius took the letter and opened it. " _Dear Mr Potter_ ," Sirius read the letter out loud and as he went on his eyes got bigger and bigger.

Remus snatched the letter and read it himself. "You took your NEWTS?!"

"And passed," offered Harry as he sipped on his milkshake. Kreacher was the best.

"How? When? How?" spluttered Sirius.

"You said how twice," Harry pointed out.

"HARRY!" the men shouted.

"Over the summer."

"You got all O's," Remus waved the letter around.

"Like it was hard," Harry said dismissively.

"Did you even take your OWLs?" Remus asked.

"What for? That would have been a waste of time. They're test training wheels, I didn't need them."

"So you're done with Hogwarts?" asked Sirius sadly.

"Well of course I am. Why would I need to go back there? They don't even offer university level courses."

"When did you even study for this?" asked Remus.

"Last year. You didn't really think I was actually spending my time there learning to levitate a feather or transfigure a needle?"

Sirius sighed. "I thought we talked about you telling us when big things happened."

"This isn't a big thing."

"It's not?" Remus pursed his lips.

"Of course not." Harry paused. "Though, on that note. I will be publishing a cure for the new scrofungulus strain. That will make the newspapers most likely."

"Excuse me?" Remus was checking his hearing. "Did you say that you found a cure?"

"Yes."

"But no one has died in months," Sirius noted.

"I know."

"Do you expect it to resurface?" asked Remus worried.

Harry smirked. "Nope."

"Then why publish the cure?" Sirius was confused.

"I didn't want to waste all my research by not publishing it."

"When did you discover the cure?" Remus was still in shock but very impressed.

"Hmm, lets see." Harry took a long sip of his peanut-butter chocolate milkshake before answering. "I think it was completed on BonFire Night."

"You mean, last year?" Sirius was really confused. "The fifth of November of last year?"

"Yes," Harry gave them a wide smile.

"You had the cure days after the outbreak was announced?" Remus was hoping he heard wrong.

"Correct."

"And all those….." Remus didn't know how to finish.

"Yes?"

"How? Why? How?" repeated Sirius.

"We've done that one."

"HARRY!"

Harry shrugged. "It was effective and a tad ridiculous," then hummed "Violet" by Hole.

_ **THE END** _

* * *


End file.
